


sedentary

by notveryglittery (darlingdany)



Series: the Softest [4]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Napping, Sleepy Cuddles, can be read as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdany/pseuds/notveryglittery
Summary: deceit is tired. remy is warm.





	sedentary

**Author's Note:**

> i had an extremely soft dream and decided it needed to be written. consider this a bonus of the Softest series! i myself was very tired when i wrote this so apologies if it doesn’t make sense.

(“This is a terrible idea,” Virgil whispered to Patton.

“Aw, it’ll be okay, kiddo! I trust them!” Patton reassured, patting him on the head.)

It turned out Patton’s trust in Deceit and Remy was not entirely misplaced. They actually took care of everything that needed to be dealt with in the mindscape with surprising efficiency. Remy was working well, having apparently caught up on all the rest he needed beforehand, and some sort of caffeinated tea in his tumbler. Deceit really did have the best intentions in mind for Thomas, even if it sometimes didn’t seem like it, and mostly just wanted to get this all over with, so he could go take a nap.

By the end of their tasks, Deceit had gone from drowsy to full on exhausted. Work meant for five sides (and sometimes Remy) apparently took much more time and energy when it was just two. Who knew right? Remy was finishing whatever it was he’d been drinking. Deceit gave the living room a once over. He went over the checklist in his head. Yup. They were done.

“Well, this was _delightful,_ ” Deceit said, sighing. “I so hope we can do it again soon. Until then, I’m off to stay awake awhile longer and take care of so many things.” Hm, that was not very convincing, but cut him some slack, he was practically dead on his feet. He was ready to sink out to his room, where he’d take a nap, and admittedly be a bit lonely and cold, but he had enough blankets, and this was how all his naps went anyway so no big deal.

Remy snapped his fingers. Deceit paused.

“Uhm, I don’t think so, honey,” Remy said, tilting his sunglasses down and peering at Deceit from over the edge. “If you’re taking a nap, I simply cannot allow you to take one alone. You do know what I represent, right?” Remy tapped his chest, as if the paper proclaiming “Sleep” would be attached. It was not, obviously.

Another finger snap and the couch was suddenly piled with blankets. Remy got to work on transferring them all to the recliner in what looked like an absolutely terrible comfort nest, something that would be awfully warm and cozy… and nice…

“Go change into some loose pajamas,” Remy was saying, waving Deceit towards the stairs. “This’ll be ready in five minutes, tops.”

Deceit, much too tired to deal with the attitude Remy would give him if he disagreed, headed upstairs to change. He almost fell over at the top of the staircase before catching himself along the wall. Blinking slowly, he sighed, and shuffled down the hallway to his room. He almost fell asleep standing up, leaning against the doorframe, but managed again to stay awake long enough to continue. By the time he’d changed (black sweatpants and a golden yellow sweater that Patton had knitted for him a few years ago), Deceit was just about ready to pass out. His bed looked so tempting… Even the floor would do… Maybe if he just…

Deceit jolted out of it just before he could fully lower himself to the carpet. No! Nope! Remy was waiting for him downstairs! With blankets and a recliner and soft… warm… cozy… Deceit blinked, hard, and shook his head. He could make it. He could definitely get back downstairs without falling asleep in the hallway.

(He only paused in the hallway once, leaning against the wall for a few seconds. He startled himself awake again when he started to slip down it and experienced a very mini version of the jerking sensation of falling in a dream.)

“There you are!” Remy trilled the moment he saw Deceit halfway down the stairs. Remy had changed into pajama shorts and a tank top. It boasted “sleep is for the week.” Deceit smiled at it. The moment he stumbled off the last step, Remy was by his side, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Ah, you sweet sleepy danger noodle,” Remy cooed. Deceit gave him a hiss in return, though it probably sounded much cuter than he intended it to. Oh well. Remy was warm.

While Remy lead the way to the recliner, Deceit wondered for a moment how they could possibly fit on it comfortably. They were two grown adults. Remy let him go (Deceit whined at the loss of warmth) and clambered onto the recliner. It was layered in blankets of varying colors and fabrics and sizes and it looked soft… comfortable… nice…

Deceit blinked and the next thing he knew, Remy was settled nicely on the recliner, legs stretched out. He was making grabby hands and Deceit marveled in the possibility, the idea, that someone was reaching out and so eager to cuddle with _him._

Remy was smiling, all soft around the edges, like he knew. He’d taken off the sunglasses and his eyes were sparkling with something kind and genuine and… Deceit was way too tired to think this much. He crawled onto the recliner and in turn onto Remy, slightly awkwardly, but the further he got, the _warmer_ he got, and the less he cared about how awkward it was. It took a bit of shifting before they were both comfortable. Deceit was sprawled on top of Remy, legs pulled into his chest.

Remy began carding a hand through Deceit’s hair just as Deceit tucked his head underneath Remy’s chin. He hummed without really realizing it, burrowing further and further into the softness surrounding him; it smelled like Remy’s cologne and laundry detergent and lavender.

“Alright there, sweetie?” Remy asked quietly.

“Warm,” Deceit mumbled, “soft… nice…” Was he sounding even vaguely coherent right now? Deceit wasn’t really sure and he didn’t really care. His mind was just a repeat of ‘ _warm, soft, nice, warm, soft nice, warmsoft nice, warmsoftnice…_ ’

Deceit was out like a light. Remy pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

(Later, he’d manage a selfie so he could capture the image of Deceit blep’ing, curled up and sound asleep. Virgil would call it “so precious it was illegal” and Patton would put it into the 2018 scrapbook.)


End file.
